Happy Father’s Day William E. Wynne Sr.
Friends of ours know that I refer to my father as “The Real William Wynne.” Below are a few notes and photos from the family album. Grace and I both hope that this Father’s Day finds each of you in the company of family and friends, taking a few moments to consider the most important men in our lives.
Above, my father’s official USN photo circa 1975. My father enlisted in the Navy during World War II, graduated from the Naval Academy with the Class of 1949, served in both Korea and Vietnam, and in the final total, spent 33 years on active duty. His service remains the centerpiece of his life’s work. Please take a minute to read: William Edward Wynne Sr. – Father’s Day Notes; it is a story I wrote about father on his 84th birthday. If you have ever wondered why I am intolerant of police states without human rights like China, the story will be illuminating. In this photo, my father is 50 years old, the same age as I am today.
Above, my father speaking with HRH, the King of Thailand, in 1974. Thailand is a constitutional monarchy like England, but the Thais hold the deepest reverent respect for their royal family. The King is the longest serving ruler in the world, and is widely understood as a very positive force in a part of the world that knew very little peace or freedom. He was educated in the United States and knew that his country was on the front lines of the Cold War.
The location of the photo was a construction site on Doi Inthanon, the tallest mountain in SE Asia. From 1971-74, my father was the OICC (Officer in Charge of Construction) in Thailand. This included numerous military and civilian infrastructure projects in Thailand, Laos and Cambodia, and places as distant as Diego Garcia. My father worked equally hard on building hospitals and roads as he did building airbases. While all of Thailand’s neighbors, Burma, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, fell into savage rule by communist totalitarian regimes that ran from repressive police states to genocide, the Thai people were spared this trip to hell. My father remains very proud of the role he played in preventing their enslavement.
As a show of respect for our Thai hosts, we lived in a typical Thai home, went to regular schools, learned the language, ate the food and always were deeply respectful of the people, customs and beliefs of our host nation. My father drilled into us that any shortcoming on our part would be tantamount to sabotaging the work that he and many other Americans were doing to ensure excellent relations between the two countries. Today, 42 years later, I have no patience for any American who goes abroad and forgets what the word “guest” means. At the conclusion of our time there, the Thai Secretary of Defense presented the Order of the White Elephant to my father. It is the medal on the ribbon around his neck in his official photo above.
Above, a fuzzy 1968 newspaper clipping of my father upon his return from Vietnam. At the far right is my brother Michael. Last week I told the story of Michael turning 60. I have said many times that if my father had not returned, my life would have amounted to very little. I spend a part of every Father’s Day thinking of all of the sons who were not so lucky. I will always remain thankful for this blessing.
The photo above was taken by the U.S. Navy in early 1968, at the same time as the one above. In my 5-year-old hand, I hold the Bronze Star awarded to my father during his 1967 tour in Vietnam. It is one of my favorite photos with my father.
Both Grace and I hope that these words and few photos spark many good thoughts and memories of your own families. We hope you have many blessings for which you are thankful. Of course, every member of our family is very proud of my father, but he would be the first person to tell you that he isn’t any kind of a hero nor a special person. He just takes great pride in being part of the American generation that JFK was speaking of when he said:
“Let the word go forth that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans—born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage—and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed.”
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MCW is 60 today.
Friends,
Today, my brother, Michael Wynne, turns 60. Although few of the aircraft builders we work with have met him in person, I can make a very good case that all Corvair builders are direct beneficiaries of his. My brother has been the largest influence in my life steering me into the mechanical world, and he has demonstrated by example how goals in life are to be accomplished. He is nine-and-a-half years older than me. He is the leading edge of our family and I am the trailing. This is a good analogy to express my brother’s leadership position as the pathfinder in our family. He is also the eldest of all of the cousins. He made everything we have done, going to college, getting married, you name it, much easier to do by the simple example of doing all of these things first.
But my own connection goes far further than this: My love of airplanes was derived from his; I love machines, craftsmanship and tools because he did first; I became a motorhead because he was first. I love GM stuff because he did first. These are just mechanical examples. I love the outdoors and travel because he does. I know every song by The Doors, Hendrix, CCR, Grand Funk and Steppenwolf, bands 10 years before my time, simply because this was music that he listened to, and thus so did I. My definition of what it means to be an American is clearly patterned after his. Normally such blind emulation might lead to trouble later, but not for me, as my brother is an outstanding human being, and the parts of me that are a low quality imitation of him are better than the parts I came up with on my own. I am not the only one in the family who feels this way. The three other kids in our family will gladly concede that he is the best child our family produced.
Above, the six original members of my family (we are all married now), left to right above, Alison, Michael, Mom, Dad, myself and Melissa, at mom’s 80th birthday in 2007.
Above, a photo of my parents on the beach at Coronado, Calif., in 1952. The smiles don’t speak of my father, a young Navy officer in amphibious warfare, having just returned from his first tour in the Korean War. He had left from San Francisco in 1951. My mother, 24 years old, had seen him off and boarded a Martin 4-0-4 for the flight back to San Diego. In flight, the plane had a terrific engine fire on her side. It was a rocky start to a long year, but my mother made the strongest friends with other Navy wives, awaiting and praying for the safe return of husbands from the new war.
The story of my brother’s arrival in ’53 is integral to understanding the history of my family. On New Year’s Eve 1952, my father received an emergency notice recalling him to Korea. My mother, expecting her first child, had the option to return to her caring family on the east coast, but instead chose to stay in Coronado with the other young wives, women who shared the same struggles.
Above, my father stands in the rubble of Seoul, the capital of Korea. My brother came more than a month early. At that moment, my father was near Wolmi-do island with the 1st Marine Division, under communist air attack. My mother had not heard from him in weeks, went to the delivery room knowing only that he was in an area of hard fighting. Ten days later my father’s unit was withdrawn to Japan.
By chance, a friend said that there had been a message for him. A search of hundreds of notes in the com center revealed one that only said “Lt. j.g. Wynne: Boy. Wife, baby, doing well.” A drive to another base finds a Ham radio operator, then a clear connection to another Ham in California, and a phone link. My mother tells him she has chosen to name the boy Michael Christopher Wynne. My father is very moved; it is his own father’s name.
It is several months before he can come back. It was a difficult birth, and my brother is born with terrible colic. My mother is exhausted when he arrives, and collapses in sleep. Here is my father’s home-coming from his first war: He is a new father, rocking his son to sleep in a quiet apartment in California. This tiny boy in his arms is named for his own father, the hero of my father’s world, a man who is fading in a long twilight of his life. On this evening in August of 1953, my father certainly understands how fortunate he is. He is married to a very strong person; he has survived a war that others have not; and he holds his own son in his arms. In the coming years it will take all of these blessings to sustain him through the agonizingly slow loss of his own father.
Above is a photo of all of us in 1964. (That’s me in the middle.) At first glance, we are sitting for a Christmas card picture. But if you look a little closer, it is easy to see that my brother, just 11 here, is already looking over us as the responsible oldest child. A few years after this, when Michael is barely a teenager, my father leaves for Vietnam. Before departing, he explains to my brother what is expected of young men in his position, and that there is a possibility he will not return. We do not see him or have a single call for 14 months. Yet my brother needs no further words to guide nor reinforce him. It is the beginning of a lifetime of always being willing to accept a responsibility and execute it faithfully.
When I was small, my brother was a shining star I was happy just to admire. When I was a teenager, with a myopic self-absorbed view of the world, I was quietly envious of what I perceived to be disproportionate attention that had been focused on my brother’s youth; perhaps this is every youngest child’s view of the eldest. To this day I remain embarrassed to how slowly I woke up to the reality that my brother’s youth had not been the paradise I had selfishly imagined. It had expectations and burdens that, as the youngest child, I was well insulated from. My parents set high expectations for us, and my brother met them. Much later I understood my parents were kind enough to lower the bar for the end of the line that might not have met these standards.
Above, Michael, myself and our father horsing around on Michael’s 30th birthday in ’83. Many builders have met my father at Corvair Colleges and air shows, and read many of the things I have written about him. I carry my father’s name, but truth be told, Michael is much more like my father than I am. In all the ways that count, all the qualities of character, my brother’s life is a much better tribute to the sterling example that our father gave to both of us.
Many people know that my father is a lifelong engineer, trained at the Naval academy, RPI and Columbia. In our generation, it is my brother who has carried on this tradition. When our family departed for duty in Thailand, my brother stayed 10,000 miles behind and started his engineering work at Lehigh. In the summers he came to Asia and volunteered for assignments on infrastructure projects in Cambodia and Vietnam. He often flew to sites in Barons and King Airs with my father.
Arriving at a remote site in Cambodia, my father had the pilot orbit above for a look. A moment later an identical plane flies a straight-in approach and is shot down by a hail of small arms fire off the end of the runway. There are no survivors. My mother explains that she can accept that she may one day lose my father, but she can not lose both of them. My father understands. They do not fly on the same aircraft again.
My brother studies oceanography at the university of Hawaii before moving into environmental engineering. An important part of his work is ensuring that large corporations work in compliance with established laws and standards. When a younger generation in our family was speaking of “protecting the environment,” I pointed out that they could do “gestures” like wearing t-shirts, going on marches or sending e-mails, or they could do something real like Michael has, by having the commitment to become educated and do the long-term hard work that will have an actual effect to protect the environment.
My brother would gladly tell anyone that the best thing that ever happened to him is being married to his lovely wife Louise. In her he found a soulmate with the same energy and values. Louise has played much the same role in her own family that Michael has in ours. The photo is from when they were first married 25 years ago. I had the honor of being Michael’s best man. Seventeen years later, he returned this as the best man at my wedding.
Above, dad with his first grandchild, Michael Jr. in 1986. Thirty three years earlier, upon his return from Korea, dad held Michael Sr. in the same arms. Fate had robbed my father from sharing his sons’ lives with his own father. As a great blessing, this generation has been spared. My brother’s family lives only 15 miles from my parents, and my brother has had many days of joy with his two sons in the company of our father. Both Michael Jr. and Brian have followed their parents’ example of taking family responsiblity seriously, and they both put a lot of effort into taking care of their grandparents.
Above, Michael with his two sons, Michael Jr. and Brian, when the boys were young. I have written about the America of the Stand by Me and October Sky generation. This had passed by the time of my youth in the ’70s, but it was the America that my brother grew up in. My brother earned the rank of Eagle Scout in 1970. In Hawaii he was my assistant Scout Master. He has standards that dictate that any form of favoritism is vile corruption. I jokingly point out that me getting to Tenderfoot in his troop was as easy as a recruit getting through bootcamp on Parris Island. He went on to many years of service as Scout Master in his sons’ troop. His sons both went all the way to Eagle Scout. Let me attest, he made them earn it to the highest standards.
Today, both Michael Jr. and Brian are both college graduates, one from Boston University, the other from Boston College. They are brothers, but different men. A testimonial to being raised in a home where they were taught to think for themselves, not what to think.
Above, Michael and I stand behind his Corvette. Funny family story: one day Louise is at the Chevy dealer having routine service done on their Suburban. She walks into the showroom and looks at Corvettes for a few minutes, asks the salesman only one question about colors and bought one on the spot for my brother. To the salesman, he thought he was looking at an impulse buy from one of the greatest spouses ever. In reality, Louise had long known my brother wanted one, but put it off for other responsibilities. She just thought he deserved it. Everyone agreed.
Many people today are obsessed with making deals, finding the short cut, the exception, the flexible rule, the gray area. My brother Michael is the anthesis of this. He is always willing to do more than his part, even when no one notices. He would rather spend the time putting in the genuine effort than asking for a break. He doesn’t think there is anything wrong with paying your dues. He doesn’t need special treatment, he will do just fine playing by the rules. He is the kind of American we nostalgically like to think grew on trees here. In reality, people like him have always been rare, and in my book he deserves every good thing that has, can and will happen in is life.
Happy Birthday Brother.- wewjr.
Flathead Ford, 71 cid. Freedom to pursue happiness.
Builders:
Following up on the topic of flat heads, here is the flagship of our personal flat head fleet. Pictured is a tiny flat head Ford from a 1948 Anglia. If you know model A’s, this engine will look very familiar.
Above, the busy side. This is a four-cylinder engine, but it is only 71 cubic inches. It has a nominal HP rating or 8 or 10 by some English taxation system, but its actual power output is about 20 ponies. This engine came in a very small car, a 1948 Anglia, built by Ford in England. I got the engine from Vern, who had it for 25 or 30 years. I have motored it over with a very powerful drill, and it has good compression. The only thing missing is the starter. The transmission is a 3 speed that would fit in a coffee can. The engine was built in England, but the design is pure Ford.
For size, that is a 12″ ruler sitting on the head. the item ay the lower right is an external water pump. The clutch is a 6″ unit. For a while I thought about making a 3/4 scale Pietenpol Sky scout with it, then gave some thought to re-engining our tiny Case tractor with it. It is a bite sized marvel of simplicity, and it makes you day dream of a use for it.
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As an aside, I looked on the web and found that the starter is very easy to buy from clubs and shops in England where Angilas were predominantly sold. There are car clubs that restore and drive them there. The main thing Americans did with Anglias was use the bodies for dragsters.
Above, a blown, injected Big Block Chevy powers this American ’48 Anglia. It will run a 1/4 mile in the mid seven second range. Thats zero to 180 mph in less than eight seconds. This car probably has 75 times the original power output of the little flat head.
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When I contacted the people in England, a funny thing happened: They refused to sell me any part, including a manual for the engine. They pointed out that their website said “Absolutely no sales to Americans.” When I asked why, I was told that they were ‘afraid of being sued.’ I politely asked if they had ever heard of a single person in the US who had ever sued anyone in England over any vehicle part. They couldn’t name one, but they had decided to live in fear of this, even though there is no legal mechanism to allow it to happen. I pointed out that I was not likely to get hurt in a 20 hp car. No luck. Just because I am a jackass, I asked them if a guy wrote them from Pakistan and said he needed a part to finish the car bomb he had made out of an Anglia so he could drive it down to the market place, could he buy it? Answer: “Well, we don’t have any rules against that, so yes, but we do have rules against selling to Americans.”
Above, Nevil Shute. Pilot, builder, enginner and writer.
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We have a number of friends in Great Britain. 145 years ago 50% of my DNA lived there. My favorite Aero engineer of all time is Nevil Shute. I have a 1959 Triumph 650. On the topic of English history, I am the most well read American most people have ever met. I like many things about the people there, but in many ways, today’s Britons live in a fear driven bureaucracy I would find maddening. Not only are they afraid of impossible lawsuits, you find other things like flying a Corvair there is illegal (technically it is under review, but is has been so for 10 years.) You can not build a Pietenpol in Britain, because the design was deemed, without any evidence, to be horribly dangerous. The Pietenpols in Britain look like ours, but their government paid professionals to design a new structure for it, presumably in the name of ‘safety.’ Fair enough: Would you like to build their ‘better’ version? You can’t, because of course they will not sell Americans the drawings.
Above, A man, a plane and an engine. In Britain, by bureaucratic decree, he is a dangerous person to be stopped, the design unairworthy, the engine not to be flown. Here, the engine flies by the hundreds, the plane has been built for eight decades, and the man is hailed as the patron saint of homebuilding. The Atlantic is very wide, but the gulf between perspectives is wider.
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In the history of aviation Britain has had many outstanding pilots engineers and builders. They made many fantastic designs. If you like motorcycles, you know that the British ruled the roads for 50 years. They made great machines, even if we like to make fun of Lucas electrics. If their traditional creativity was unleashed, many people in America would be flying British designed and kitted experimentals, instead of the tiny fraction of their designs that are flown here. But somewhere along the line, for reasons I don’t claim to understand, they dropped out of the running.
A man I have never met, named Francis Donaldson, has been the sole person in Great Britain passing judgement over what people there will be allowed to build. As far as I can tell, he does this on his own personal whim. He has been in charge of this since 1990, yes, the same job, one guy 23 years. Many people from England have told me he is a nice guy, but I am not inclined to like a person who has been telling people for 23 years that a Pietenpol, a plane flying here for 84 years, is unairworthy.
Maybe if I was raised to believe that I was a ‘subject’, that God selected a king to rule me, and that a type of human called an ‘aristocrat’ was a better ‘class’ than me, I would have much more tolerance for one man arbitrarily making decisions for me. But alas, 50% of my ancestors left that behind when they got in 4th class steerage to come here, a land where they would be judged by their hard work and ethics, not their ‘class status.’ I am just another one of those “Crass Colonials” who doesn’t know his place, who will never understand the wisdom of a life appointment bureaucrat making decisions for me.
If you live on this side of the pond, and you like airplanes, go back to the family tree and thank the person who had the wisdom to get on the boat. Over the years, I have heard aviators who were political extremists from both sides of the fence make the stupid comment “If so and so wins, I am leaving.” What a joke. It would be nice if everyone who ever said that did us a favor and followed through, but I can’t think of a single one who ever did. This is your proof that things are not perfect for aviators here, just better than anywhere else.
Tonight, perhaps 200 people in America are going out to their workshops, to put in a few hours of progress on their Corvair powered Pietenpol project. When completed, many of these planes will be masterpieces like Mike Groahs, Gary Boothe’s and Kurt Shipman’s. Most will be good solid planes, and a handful will be pieces of feces. Every one of them can get an airworthyness cert. for phase one flight testing because the neither the FAA nor a DAR can deny a builder one. Here we believe that humans should be in charge of their own lives, including the potential to end these lives. Truly ironic that Darwin was from England, but we are the ones who recognize his genius in social engineering. This, in place of a lifetime bureaucrat is the single biggest reason why American designs dominate the world-wide homebuilt market.
We are not better than other people, we are not special humans. Unless your family was here in 1491, we are the other people, a nation of people from somewhere else. In this experiment, the people are the same, only the system is different. We have a system that allows the individuals who are better, work harder and are gifted to rise to the top. I don’t feel better than fellow aviators elsewhere, I just feel lucky to be here, working in our system. Some people here like to gripe, and that’s fine, as long as it comes with the acknowledgement that aviation freedom is a lot easier to pursue here.
If you are one of the two hundred, celebrate your good luck and freedom by going out to the shop to work on a plane that, were you living in Britain, would land you in prison after your first flight. Do some solid work tonight that would make Bernard proud. Think of your fellow aviators, men just like you, but fate determined you to have freedom to build as you mind wishes and your hands are able, and they must wait another decade or two for the whim of a bureaucrat to change. When you are done for the night, take a few minutes to admire your work. Offer a salute to your brother aviators living in repression on the other side of the pond by drinking a Cold beer.-ww
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*If any friends from the other side of the pond are heading to Brodhead or Oshkosh, I welcome you to come over and lecture me at length about what a crass colonial jackass I am. If you can smuggle a starter out of the kingdom for me, I will print a retraction, sing God save the Queen, and do my best to drink one warm beer with you. If Frances Donaldson is visiting, please advise him that we plan to teach him how to have fun, culminating in him getting drunk on Jack Daniels, taking him Lynyrd Skynyrd concert in an F-250, and flying him around the pattern in an original Pietenpol powered by a Corvair. He may never go home.
Model T of the air, Part #2 – Leeon Davis notes
Builders,
I mentioned Leeon Davis in the first part of this story. There is not much biographical information on him on the web, but I found this link below , It has a good short summary of his designs:
http://www.angelfire.com/ks2/janowski/other_aircraft/Davis/
Above, Rex Johnston’s Corvair powered DA-2
There are long articles on the DA-11 and the DA-9 in back issues of Contact! magazine. A long time ago in the 1990s, Sport Aviation did a story on the DA-9. At 375 pounds, powered by a C-90 Continental turning high rpm, it would do 290mph, an impressive special purpose missile.
There have been several Corvair powered DA-2’s. The best known one is Jim Ballew’s in Oklahoma. It has about 500 hours on it. Jim also has a Corvair powered 601 and a Corvair powered Pietenpol. There are links to all three at this story: Another new “Zenvair” 601XLB, Jim Ballew, 2700cc
Rex Johnston’s DA-2 is a story that gets a lot of attention on our website, because his plane is the first Corvair powered plane with Electronic Fuel Injection. In the 20 years I have been teaching people about Corvair engines, I have had many people tell me that they were going to do this, but Rex was the guy with the combination of skills and persistence. You can read about it at this link: Corvair Powered Davis DA-2, w/EFI
In part one, I said that Leeon Davis was the most outspoken proponent of mass-produced aircraft at an affordable price. His hall marks were light weight and extreme simplicity. Today, it is very hard to imagine how against the grain this was in the 1988-94 time line. The ‘Fast Glass’ rage was on, and many new high-end designs came out that got a lot of attention, even when they were not particularly good designs. (Prescott Pusher and the Cirrus VK-30 come to mind here). You can read my story 2,500 words about levels of aircraft finsh…… to get an inside look at how these aircraft distorted the world of homebuilding and aviation journalism.
Davis was sending out the message of simplicity, just when few people were listening, as the magazines began to focus on planes that reflected the “conspicuous consumption” mentality. One of the real differences of that era was also a reflection of a change in society. People willing to heavily finance their hobby on credit. Previous to this people took out loans for houses and cars, but not often homebuilts. If you read the magazines of the 1960s, it is very clear that people built from savings or paid for the plane in parts as the made progress. Kit aircraft go all the way back to Bernard Pietenpol and Ed Heath, but the explosion of kitbuilding only came after the 1980’s provided an accumulation of wealth and the willingness to spend even more. A great number of the high end planes of the 1990s were financed by an outfit called Green Tree financial. They had previously specialized in financing mobile homes, but moved heavily into boats , motorcycles and planes in the 1990s. If you read their history, it is filled with all the buzz words we learned in 2008 like “securitized loan packaging”. This new availability of money to loan, the national mood to accept debt and the glowing coverage high end planes received put Davis’s message of realism off the radar. Look back, it is easy to see that the three factors above sold a lot of kits, but few of them were completed, and many of the people who did would have been happier listening to Leeon’s perspective.
I don’t want to imply that just composite builders were getting lost in this either; Look how quickly beautifully simple ultralights all became complicated. Same with metal aircraft, and fabric ones. All attention was all focused on the most elaborate machines. Very few articles ever said how much the airplane weighed or cost, two elements that Davis focused on. A lancair 320 called ‘dream catcher’ and a Pacer named ‘miss pearl’ come to mind as two planes that got a lot of press coverage for their detail paint and interior, but were each very heavy examples of their respective designs. The EZ’s built to Rutans specified simplicity and planes like Dave Anders 900 pound RV-4 didn’t get anywhere near the attention.
In 1998, I came very close to buying the design rights and tooling for the DA-2, but found the owner (not Leeon) a hard guy to deal with. I didn’t consider it a perfect plane, but felt that it was a good starting point. I spent a lot of time with Gus Warren and a set of drawings, and we looked at blind rivets, a different wing planform and a thicker airfoil. Once we agreed on a value, the owner specified that he would only accept payment in a form that the IRS and his ex couldn’t track. That was the derailment, not the design.
In the past 25 years, the qualities I like in planes and find important have evolved. You can read about more about this at this story: Steel tube fuselages, “Safe” planes and 250mph accidents . Before I knew how to fly I was captivated by slow landing Stol planes, because I incorrectly thought they would be easy to fly. Likewise I was initially following ‘stall proof’ planes until an instructor made me do an hours worth of stalls from every angle and approach, and then explained that flight qualities before and after stall are more important. I learned that many textbook/hangar flying ‘truths’ , like a 23012 having a ‘dangerous stall’ are a myth.
A point I would like to make is that I liked Davis’s values as a designer, even if his aircraft were not the best ones for myself. We could ask Jim Ballew if he likes flying his 601XL more than his DA-2. He might, especially if he was flying out of a short strip. I can make a case that a Panther would radically out perform a DA-5 on the same power. Davis went to extreme measures to save weight, and his planes have short spans and very little wing area. probably a reflection of flying from flat areas of the country and paved strips. Yet I can make a very good case that both the 601XL and the Panther have a great allegiance to simplicity. Chris Heintz and Dan Weseman moved slightly off stone simple to add a lot of capability to their planes, but they didn’t lose sight of the concept of affordability.
People who have never met me or just glanced at something I wrote may think of me as opinionated. But if you ask people who have known me for a long time, they will tell you that my perspectives evolved in the long run. I have always been interested in the results of a test, to see if a direction shift was in order. I have always listened to people with experience to learn from them. I am more likely to look for an indication I am wrong than a validation I am right. Today I have a refined and focused set of things that are important to me in aviation. If things go well, I have 20-25 flying seasons left, and I want to spend them on things I like, not what I ‘should be doing.’ I have a pretty good set of answers for myself, but they were not the ones I started with. I don’t need people to agree with mine, the point is only to find your own. The one thing that has not changed in my perspective is the thing I learned from Leeon Davis: simplicity and lower cost will always be vital characteristics. -ww
Mail Sack, 6/4/13, Model T’s, Charles Poland Jr. and reptiles
Builders,
Here is a sample of the mail:
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On the story of Model T of the air? :
Builder Dan Branstrom writes:
“Budd Davisson wrote two pireps on Davis designs, The DA2 and the DA5:”
http://www.airbum.com/pireps/PirepDavisDA2.html
http://www.airbum.com/pireps/PirepDA5.html
Builder “Jacksno” writes:
“Wynne for President.”
I couldn’t agree more, I will let my sister Melissa, the Illinois politician, know that you nominated her.I think she could get elected, her only liability is a jackass politically incorrect brother in Florida.-ww
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On the story of Charles Poland Jr., An American of whom you could be proud.:
Builder Harold Bickford writes:
“Indeed William, where do we get such men and women? Certainly we can cite many reasons relating to upbringing, family, culture, experience. faith. One place they don’t come from is selfishness. Being a veteran Charles knew what service was and the calling that goes with it even to ultimate sacrifice standing in the breech.
Likewise building airplanes and engines can’t be a selfish enterprise. Where there is success it is because folks listen to and help each other and pay attention to solid information which at times has been gained at great cost. To the question some ask about building the response is simple; why not give it a try? They’re often expecting a defensive answer and instead they have to think. -Harold”
601XL Builder/flyer Dr. Gary Ray writes:
“Any person or group that attacks innocent, unarmed soft targets looses all rights to claim any violation of their own individual rights as this makes the claims hypocritical while trashing the individual rights of others. It is like profanity, a feeble mind trying to act forcefully. Also, an act of cowardice.”
Builder Dan Branstrom writes:
“I rarely pass on anything that has been forwarded multiple times, unless I can go to the source and verify it, and I’ve fact checked it. [Jokes excluded].
What I usually find is that a quote didn’t come from the person who “said” it, that things stated as “facts” started out as opinions expressed by some columnist years ago, and, for propaganda purposes, lies are mixed with truth to make them appear plausible. Sometimes, the sources cited turn out to say exactly the opposite of what the email claims they did. I used to email a reply to the earliest person who forwarded it, but I got accused of being an evil person involved in some international conspiracy at best. I now only reply to the last person who forwarded it to me. We’re friends, and they understand that I want truth and honest discourse, and that even if we disagree, we’ll stay friends.”
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On the story of Fun with Agkistrodon Piscivorus and Vern’s Aero-Trike:
Pietenpol builder Terry Hand writes:
“William, I am sure that Vern’s sock was not the only item of apparel that got soaked! I am glad to hear that both of you are safe. Please make sure and keep an eye out for Scoob E. Semper Fi, Terry Hand”
Zenith builder Larry MaGruder writes:
“We have a good number of all four here in Texas, too. Still don’t like them.”
Builder “Jeffeoso” writes:
“I do beg to differ – Texas has all four native poisonous species as well…”
Hey, learned something new, you Texans are right. When it gets to the point of stepping on them in the hangar, they seem pretty dense here. Hope they are a little thinner in your state.-ww.
Pietenpol builder Jon Coxwell writes:
“I am mostly scared to death of snakes. I learned that from my mom. She dislikes all creepy crawly thing. Prior to WWII my father flew sub patrol with B-17s in central America. My mom followed him from airfield to airfield all over central America. One night while driving they ran over a boa and my dad decided he wanted the snake (probably for the skin). He went out into the jungle on the side of the road with a flash light and his army issue .45 until he found the head and he shot it. My mother had to help him stuff the shake into the trunk of the car. She never forgot that. That is a cool vehicle! Is it licensed as a car, airplane, or Motorcycle?”
Jon, Vern’s creation is a motorcycle in Florida. We have no emissions nor inspections here, and you can license just about anything you wish to drive. Combine this with no state income tax and it all seems like a great deal until you come back to the snake thing. For more on the trike, check this link: Vern’s Aero-Cars , (hit F5 if the pictures are small.)
Pietenpol builder Harold Bickford writes:
“In the wall Street Journal under economy the 6/3 issue has an article about the increasingly risk averse culture. It seems too many folks do’t even want to try, instead looking for elusive security. Fortunately here at flycovair people aren’t so timid and are willing to investigate and do.- Harold”
Harold, Vern is the only guy here willing to dance on poisonous snakes, He sets the standard.-ww
Zenith 601XL builder/flyer Ron Lendon writes:
“WW, I thought being your neighbor might be fun, now I’m not so sure.”
Ron, we should have draped the carcass on my neighbors ‘For sale’ real estate sign to hear how his agent would explain it to potential buyers.-ww
Cruiser builder Sarah Ashmore writes:
“When I was young while on an evening walk with my father I almost stepped on a Copperhead that was in the laying middle of the street. I had never seen a live snake and assumed that it was dead like every other one I had ever seen. My father was far more aware of the dangers then I was and I remember a very strong grip taking me by the shoulder and yanking me back before the snake had become aware of my approach and become defensive. A single whack with a convenient branch dispatched the threat and I have never been so casual again when out amongst nature. The funny thing is that my professional career has returned me now to the city of my youth and with a storm drainage ditch in my back yard I maintain a constant vigil for anything that might be a snake. With all the years I lived in Florida I saw but one rattlesnake and a single Corral Snake. “Red touches Yellow, kill a fellow, Red touches Black, friend of Jack” was the guideline I kept in mind to be sure I did not mistake the deadly Corral Snake from the beneficial King Snake.”
Zenith 750 Builder Dan Glaze writes:
“they say that everyone has a double, ole Vern sure looks a lot like Albert standing there, dan-o”
Builder Dan Branstrom writes:
“I ate water moccasin (aka cottonmouth) on land survival at Eglin AFB, 45 years ago, along with poke salad, palmetto hearts, and even wood rat. All I can remember is, just like the cliche, it tasted somewhat like chicken. Somebody else had gigged it swimming in the water. He nailed it in the body, and the snake still tried to climb up the shaft to bite him I sure wouldn’t like to meet one any closer. I know you’ll be careful.”
Parting Shot from Zenith builders Bob and Pat Pustell :
“Hi, William–My birthday may preceded yours by a decade and a half, but I am with you on almost everything you posted lately. I loved my balsa gliders/rubber band airplanes as a kid. I loved my balsa and tissue paper stick built planes even more, but it was more painful when they got wrecked. Great fun and many lessons. The plastic models were fun, too, but you could not fly them.
I loved the old flathead utility engines. My Grandmother’s place had no electricity, kerosene lamps and a Briggs and Stratton powered well pump. Many times, as a remarkably young guy, I had that engine apart and got it running again. It powered that wellpump for many decades. My first hot-rodding project was a cast-off lawn mower. It turned such high revs when we were done with it that we eventually put the rod through the side of the case, but man could that thing cut tall grass at full power!! I could tune up a flathead Ford V8 pretty nicely, also. Small block Chevies were my stock in trade in later years, however.
Stick and Rudder was my first and is still my favorite aviation book. Anything by Ernie Gann is right up there, too. I never met Ernie but I flew with guys who did know him from when he worked for my airline. Even second-hand, I enjoyed the glow……… Before the airline, I flew in the Air Force with Medal of Honor winners, regular guys, everyday heroes. We have a wonderful country going here. Let’s keep it that way.
Oh, about those big nasty venomous snakes in your area — I moved to northern New England to retire for a reason — I had enough of those nasty creatures in southeast asia and the southwest desert of the US. Come on up and join us. The winters are not as bad as people would make you think. The rest of the year is wonderful and we do not do venom, tornadoes, major hurricanes or earthquakes.
Best wishes to you and Grace and ScoobE, Bob and Pat Pustell”
Model T of the air?
Builders,
This is a topic I have spent a lot of time thinking about over the last 25 years. Over time my perspective has changed with more experience, and knowing more about people and what their ambitions and goals are. I could write a small book on this topic, but let me just run some highlights past you as food for your own thought, and tie it in to your homebuilt project.
Above, the model T, in production 1908-27, 15 million sold, Most influential motor vehicle of all time. The price actually went from $850 down to $260 during the production run. In 1914, the car cost about $450, and this was about the amount of money that one of Ford’s unskilled workers made in 3 or 4 months. This car was not the best one of its times, nor was it the fastest, or was it at the top of many other measures. Yet it was king on the only quality that mattered then and now for an influential product: affordability.
25 years ago when I was first getting started in aviation, I already knew that I wanted to work primarily in general aviation, personal aircraft had more interest to me than transport or military ones. Factory GA aircraft were essentially out of production, the last waves of production of the ‘affordable’ Pipers and Cessnas had already been sold. Their demise is often blamed on product liability, but if you look into it deeply, a lot of it is high inflation in 1979-81, the fact the IRS closed a loop hole that allowed rampant fraudulent write-offs of aircraft expenses, and the fact that huge corporations now owned the aircraft companies that were started by families, their ‘loyalty’ was to profits not affordable production are more to blame.
At the time, people who dreamed of restarting America’s aircraft manufacturing predominantly hung around experimental aviation. I was new, but wanted any small part in a revolution that would bring planes that working people could buy. My motivation was partially selfish, I was a broke college student headed into the ‘get rich slow’ field of aircraft maintenance. If there was a single man who was the outspoken proponent and visionary of this time it was Leeon Davis. Many people might have thought I was going to type the name Rutan, but if you ever have a chance to read Davis’s book Where is my Dream plane? * you will understand why he was without peer on this. I had a chance to meet him in person just once, but I read just about everything he ever wrote on planes.
Above, a Davis DA-11, Leeon’s idea of what affordable and mass producible could be. It weighed 175 pounds, cruised at 125 mph. It was powered by a Briggs and Stratton 18 hp engine. A back issue of Contact magazine has an extensive story on it written by Mr.Davis. He designed a number of planes, the DA-2 being the best known. There is a good video of him and a flying DA-11 at this link: http://airpigz.com/blog/2010/4/6/video-mower-power-to-the-people-remembering-leeon-davis.html
Below is Henry Ford’s comment on his goal with the model T. In five years, when people ask why the factory built S-LSA planes all flopped, you can point back to this quote, that evidently none of the people producing, or the aviation journalist writing reviews of S-LSA aircraft have ever read or understood:
“I will build a car for the great multitude. It will be large enough for the family, but small enough for the individual to run and care for. It will be constructed of the best materials, by the best men to be hired, after the simplest designs that modern engineering can devise. But it will be so low in price that no man making a good salary will be unable to own one – and enjoy with his family the blessing of hours of pleasure in God’s great open spaces.”
Here is an odd, but important connection: Above is the most successful sailboat of all time, the Sunfish. No other boat in history even comes close to the numbers sold, the number of people who learned to sail or the hours they enjoyed. It was not the fastest sailboat of its era, nor the best in any other way but one: It was affordable because it was a brilliant simple design that was mass producible. They went to molded fiberglass in 1960, eventually producing a quarter million boats. These boats produced millions of sailors, and a very strong and enduring sailing base in the US, complete with a lasting market for more advanced boats.
Aviation magazines are always highlighting the best fastest, most elaborate planes with a moronic argument that these will stimulate aviation by getting people interested. Perhaps after decades of this fiction, we can dismiss it. You don’t build a pyramid by making the top block and expecting the base to appear under it. Lasting things are built from the foundation up. No person in sailing would make the foolish claim that the winner of the 1960 America’s cup, (which demonstrated itself as the most expensive and fastest sailboat ever) was important to sailing as the introduction of mass-produced Sunfish the same year. Yet this is the same argument we hear when the EAA puts a multimillion dollar TBM-850 turboprop on the cover of Sport Aviation.
What men like Leeon Davis well understood was that aviation needed a Model T, (or my example of a Sunfish) not another expensive high-end plane. We didn’t get it, because in the short run greed wins, and you can make a lot more money producing things like Cirrus SR-22s, $300K C-172s, and $159K LSA planes with 912 engines. Davis made the argument that a real industrialist like a Ford, would understand that it is a 10 or 15 year plan, but it was an argument that was never going to sell to a corporate manager who’s bonus was based on quarterly income sheets.
Aviation, and American manufacturing are not going to be saved by people with the “profit today at any cost, global cheap labor” mentality. When Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple died, TV journalists who know nothing of manufacturing, working people, and economics, mourned him as if we had lost one of the greatest lives ever, you had to wonder if they would have had as many good things to say covering the death of MLK or Lincoln.
Amid this outpouring of love for the ‘saint’ that provided their Ipads and phones, A sole rational voice pointed out that Steve Jobs was not to be revered or even thought of in the same category as Ford or our other industrialists. The difference was simple: Ford had eventually provided a million Americans with a job that paid $10,000/yr. Steve Jobs did nothing for working Americans, because his model was to make 10,000 investors into millionaires, and have all the products made in China by people working as virtual slaves in toxic factories. He never gave a damn if anyone here had a meaningful job, just as long they had enough pennies to buy an Iphone and play video games. Ford was not my idea of a humanitarian, but he comes out that way compared to Steve Jobs who’s holy trinity was wealth, power and ego.
25 years later, I still think about mass producible aircraft. A big part of this is that I would like to live in a country where a great number of young people, check that…where people could get excited about ambitious and challenging things again, like learning to fly, and perhaps building their planes. The philosophy JKF was speaking of when he said:
“We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win.”
I like to think that a design like one of Davis’s could re-ignite such thinking. It betrays that I am an optimist at heart, and it is a clue why I detest people who choose to be relentlessly negative instead of taking any small positive action.
I read a book on current economics where the author pointed out that economically, Americans in 2013 can be divided into two groups: The 15% that came through the last 4 years, saw the market hit 14,000 and had all their investments come back, and the 85% who were squeezed into selling off 401K’s, investments and taking on more debt. His point was just about understanding that recessions are polarizing. Hard to argue against. If there was ever a chance that a large industrialist would get interested in building an affordable plane for working people, it gets a lot more remote when those same working people just went further into debt to just cover the basics.
If you are in the first group, I am happy for you, it probably has a lot to do with how hard you work and how well you planned, and in many cases a bit of luck like your family staying healthy. If you are in the second group, and you have dreams in aviation, let me impress upon you the only thing you really need to understand: You can still do the things you dreamed of, but you will have to be more willing than ever to control the costs by doing more of the work yourself, choosing simpler, more pure designs, and being willing to learn more. You are going to have to be your own white knight on this. There will be people to offer assistance and a path, but you are going to have to take care of your own dreams. Make a plan, do not lie down while these fade.
Seen from this perspective, you can understand why 95% of the businesses in our industry are only aimed at the first group of people. They are the easy people to sell things to. If you are one of the 85% who have less money than 2008, our industry still wants your membership, they want your admission fee at airshows, and they would like you to call your congressman when their lobbyists friends are trying to keep O’Hare and LAX open for the six seat light jets of celebrities, but they don’t really believe you are going to be anything more than a spectator in the system, a small source of revenue to them. They want you to just be happy reading about what other people are doing. Look at the magazines and compare then to 1960’s vintage ones, the difference is staggering. You can not learn about Model T’s and Sunfish by reading the work of editors who only cover Duesneberg’s and Yachts. Even looking at it saps motivation.
This is not new. It is the exact same thing Bernard Pietenpol encountered in the first depression. Thankfully he was not cut out to be anyone’s line boy or spectator. He was in aviation to be in the Arena. I consider him the patron saint of flight for the working man. Not because of his designs, but because of his attitude. If you are waiting for things to change, they will not. You must do what Pietenpol did, and make them change. You need to seek out the 5% of the companies that still give a damn about aircraft being affordable for working people. You should isolate yourself from people magazines and settings that send you the message that your place is with the spectators. You must act on things, even when those around say you can’t, shouldn’t or don’t believe in you. You need to move forward, even when you have doubts yourself. There is nothing to be gained by quitting. anyone can do that at any time. All the rewards go to the builder who gets down to the work of making his own reality.-ww
*If anyone has a copy of, or knows where I can find “where is my dream plane,” I would like to buy it. The only one I know of is in the reference section of the Embry-Riddle library, and I would like to have a personal one.
Charles Poland Jr., An American of whom you could be proud.
Builders,
We forget important people too quickly these days. Charles Poland Jr. is a person who should not be forgotten, On the outside, his life story was that of a common man. Inside, he possessed an uncommon integrity and courage. It was these exact qualities which cost him his life. There are plenty of good people in our country, but extraordinary acts of selfless courage are not common, and it is well worth taking a few minutes to think of this man and consider the kind of human being he was.
If his name doesn’t ring a bell, let me refresh your memory. Six months ago, a psychopath in Alabama boarded the school bus this man was driving and demanded at gun point that he be given two children. Mr. Poland blocked the man and opened the emergency exit. He actually was acquainted with the gunman and knew how dangerous he was. Driving other people’s children to school is not considered a lucrative nor important job in a money driven society, but by all accounts, Mr.Poland took this task seriously. The only way that a psychopath was going to take a kid off his bus was over his dead body. For this exact sacrifice, the gunman got only one child, 21 got away.
You can read a few words on Mr. Poland’s life in this link to a NYT story:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/04/us/service-held-for-school-bus-driver-in-alabama.html
The FBI released information today on the resulting stand-off where the child was freed a week later. The FBI killed the psychopath in his bunker. Included in the information was tapes of things the gunman had said to hostage negotiators. The man was consumed with antigovernment venom, and had a long litany of complaints that he felt justified any act he wanted to take. His claims of government evil were stronger than anything I could remember hearing in the first 25 years of my life. Today, you can read and hear things just like it any time you like on the Internet.
Out of coincidence, one of my acquaintances on FB went on a giant tirade in capital letters today, predicting a “Nazi” takeover of America’s social institutions. I had just heard the FBI tapes of the gunman in the bunker, and let me say that the words on Facebook were essentially the same story.
The guy in the bunker was clearly mentally ill, and nothing in his life had really ever functioned. It isn’t an excuse, and I am okay with the FBI killing him. However, the guy with the same tune on Facebook is highly educated, owns a Mooney, travels in it, and does many things. He has many blessings, but you never hear that. I have no explanation.
On Easter I wrote this story: A thought on Easter…. contrasting the thankfulness of a homeless man with the ingratitude of some of the people I meet at airshows. A few days ago, I wrote the story on little Balsa Planes. At the center of it is our local Cub Scout Master Greg. I made a joke about being afraid to decline to be the Pack’s guest. Here is the truth: I did it because I have enormous respect for Greg. He is tired, he works long hours, he has a child who needs a lifetime of special care, and yet he still is the Scout Master for one reason: These boys need one, and no one else was doing it. These are not kids from private schools and gated communities. These are kids who really need scouting. The depth of my respect for men like Greg is in direct contrast to anyone who is irate about issues, but the extent of their “actions” is to email a “forward” on the Internet. I do not know how Greg votes, what church he belongs to, nor any of the other things about him which extremists judge others by. It isn’t my business nor concern. Anyone can tell he is a man of values by his actions, a more reliable indicator than things people forward on Facebook.
On the way to Oshkosh this year, I am going to take a detour through Alabama, to pay a quiet visit to Mr. Poland’s town. I would like to go alone, park out of anyone’s way, and find a quiet spot to sit for a few hours. While I am there, I will think of Mr. Poland and his kind of Americans. I will ask the same question that Michener did at the end of The Bridges at Toko-ri….. “Where do we get such men?” -ww.
Fun with Agkistrodon Piscivorus and Vern’s Aero-Trike
Builders,
We have had two unexpected visitors in the hangar lately, and as odd as this sounds, I feel kind of lucky about it. Agkistrodon Piscivorus is the Latin name for Water Moccasin. There are only four poisonous snakes in America, and this is one of them (Florida is the only state that has plenty of all four). In the past week we have had two in the hangar, an unpleasant experience to say the least.
Above, Vern stands by our pond with a 42″ moccasin that I caught with a 20 gauge (2-3/4″ shell with #6 shot) last night at dark. This is big for a moccasin. World record is only 74″, and in 25 years in Florida, the biggest I have seen is about 50″. This size is plenty dangerous. Not often fatal to humans, they do cause lifelong damage by destroying pounds of tissue permanently at the bite location. They frequently kill medium and large dogs. I was closing the hangar door and found him 4 feet away, but this is not close at all.
Last week, Vern stepped on a 36″ moccasin in the doorway to the side of our hangar. It turned and bit right through his boot, injected his venom, but by a miracle, it soaked Vern’s sock, but failed to get his flesh! Vern is an experienced woodsman and a lifelong hunter, but even he needed to sit down for an hour and try to collect himself. For the past week, both of us have jumped out of our skin several times when an air hose or extension cord has brushed an ankle or foot. I was thankful I did not step on mine, and Vern felt a little charmed that he missed being bitten by 1/32nd of an inch.
Environmentalists can rest assured that moccasins are not endangered, there are enough of them in our neighborhood that they are now a trip and fall hazard. Right after I took the photo, Vern tossed him in the pond where he was promptly “re-cycled” by the very large alligator snapping turtle that lives there. He ate the last one also.
